Look!

Look! The way the blood rivers spread and run and seep through the holes in the blue-black tar, this is music. The sun gleaming on the red sea and the blood bubbles under the prismed glass is music. The blood which drips, runs like red rain down the silver-white sparkling bumper of the hissing, streaming, still car is music.

Look out your windows at freedom as you go by, this is the inside music.

And here, wind blows light in the leaves of the soft green corn.

We Must Go Far Away

Explosions shatter the sky
but I start awake
to the dark room, my fingers on my lips
too mortal
to close my eyes.
You and I, we must go
far away
to a safer place
where wars are only dust on graves
and I can slow-unwrap from sleep,
and turn to see
your quiet eyes

Stephanie at Santa Cruz